


Sharing

by livebynight



Category: Vikings (TV)
Genre: F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-02-28 23:03:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13281753
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/livebynight/pseuds/livebynight
Summary: A KYS AU Crack fic.No, this is not KYS Canon.





	1. Chapter 1

 

She knew that look well because the only human being Ivar ever looked at like that was her. Except now.

Lisbet couldn’t take her eyes off of them. Even though she was across the room. Even though on three separate occasions, she’d been approached for conversation, only to blow them off entirely so as to not break her concentration.

It started with a lighter. Ivar and this fucking Heahmund out on a balcony, secluded from the rest of the bull shit charity event. Lisbet was just about to join Ivar as he poked a cigarette between his lips, only to stop short when Bishop Heahmund crowded her view. Flicked a lighter, and cupped a protective hand around the flame to light Ivar’s smoke.

For the briefest moment, she saw those eyes illuminated by the gold Zippo. And it didn’t matter how far away she was standing - she knew the heat in that gaze, eyelids heavy, better than she knew her own reflection.

Then Ivar smiled. And not the ‘I’m here to look good to the public’ type of smile.

Lisbet felt sick. She was used to him being flirtatious sometimes. She’d endured Kwenthrith’s wandering hands, and other women’s attention in order to keep airs. But this… This meant something. The two men knew each other. Heahmund’s back was to her, but it was clear Ivar was enjoying whatever it was he was saying to him.

She nearly doubled over when Heahmund leaned in to whisper something at his ear. And it wasn’t because Ivar didn’t back away. Not because his head was so closely tilted toward Heahmund’s that his mouth could’ve touched his sharp jawline. It was the look on Ivar’s face as his eyes found hers, finally spotted her watching them from across the room. The infatuated expression slipped away, only to be replaced with worry. He visibly cleared his throat and straightened his back, putting a little more distance between him and Heahmund.

“I am honored to have finally met you, Lisbet,” Heahmund cooed at the end of the gala. Her smile was forced, became painful as his large hand firmly grasped hers and brought her knuckles to his soft lips. He was indeed good looking. So much so - with his penetrating blue eyes, stylish quaff, and a pouty mouth framed by a purposeful five o’clock shadow - Lisbet would understand anyone being attracted to him. Even if she’d always known Ivar to be hetero.

In any case, his sexuality didn’t matter to her then. All that did was the feeling of certainty that her lover might’ve wanted someone other than her.

Ivar fucked her hard that night; a little too hard considering no official Play was initiated. She lay in her bed, minding her own business and reading a book, when Ivar rolled on top of her. Barely performed any foreplay, simply yanked her underwear aside and slammed into her.

Maybe he was thinking of Heahmund. Maybe he thought if he fucked her hard enough, she might forget the passing moment they both knew she witnessed.

“How do you know him, anyway?” Lisbet asked two weeks later, sat in the back of the town cab that drove them to yet another lavish dinner function. She knew with Ubbe’s campaign, the family would have to be more public, but this was getting to be extra.

“Who?” Ivar played ignorant.

“You know who I mean - Bishop Heahmund.”

Ivar begrudgingly panned his gaze from the window to look at her. The delay in his response was telling.

“The Family has crossed paths with him before to do business.”

“What kind of business?”

“I really do not see how that -”

“Have you had sex with him?”

Ivar blanched at the accusation. “Don’t be ridiculous -”

“That’s neither a yes or no, Ivar. I saw the way you looked at him. It was - it was like -”

“Like what, Lisbet?” Ivar snapped. She glared at him before turning away, crossing her arms over her chest. “Is that what we are, now? You do not trust me anymore? You think I am sleeping around? With men?”

She dropped the conversation and stewed in silence for the rest of the trip. And dinner wasn’t much better either. Heahmund was infuriatingly charming in his black, three-piece suit. He pulled out Lisbet’s chair as she sat down, then circled the table to take a seat next to Ivar.

Throughout the evening, he boisterously held the attention of the room. Boasting his appreciation that the notoriously Pagan Lothbrok’s would be so forthcoming in donations for Church programs and Christian youth groups in England. Then during the more hushed moments, he’d lean into Ivar, chatter in his ear again as if they were sharing some secret.

Any time Ivar drained his glass of wine, Heahmund took it upon himself to refill it until Ivar’s lips were stained red, and his usual scowling demeanor was unnaturally pleasant. Something, typically, only she could do.

Lisbet drank a little too much as she kept a close eye on the pair. Sunk deeper and deeper into a dark looming cloud. Normally, she could rationalize what Ivar was doing - she’d done so countless of times when he’d let a woman get a little too close. Smooth-talk his way into amassing some sort profit whether it be for work or an extra free round of drinks in a VIP lounge. But this was different. This was personal. And she only tore her eyes away from them when she could no longer keep them from brimming with tears.

Ivar did the same thing later while they lay in bed - climbed on top of her, the both of them probably too drunk to get physical.

“Get off me,” she mumbled, pushing at his chest.

He grinned and snatched her wrists; pinned them down on the mattress. “Is that how you want it tonight?”

“I mean it, Ivar, get off!” He still hadn’t gotten the hint; thought she was acting for him. He harshly spread her legs and shoved himself between them until she screamed - “Pomegranate! Pomegranate.”  

Ivar released her immediately and pulled himself away from her, face instantly contorted with worry. “What is wrong?”

Lisbet heaved a shaky sigh and tears seeped down her cheeks. She could hardly bear to look at him, and when she did, it physically felt like her heart was being squeezed.

“You’ve been with him before,” she sobbed. “Haven’t you.”

Perhaps his drunkenness was the only reason why he could be truthful to her now. He sniffed unceremoniously, no longer able to meet her eye.

“Yes - but it was before you and I -”

“You still want him,” she snapped. “I see the way you look at him - you want him!”

She flinched when he reached out to cup her jaw. “I want you.”

“But not only me.”

At his silence, she tore herself from his grasp and rolled over, curled into the fetal position, squeezing tightly around her limbs as she quietly cried.

“Perhaps we could - work past this,” Ivar suggested over breakfast a few days later. “I have taken the liberty to discuss this.. Predicament with Heahmund.”

“Of course, you have,” Lisbet muttered under her coffee mug.

He ignored her bite. “I was thinking that the three of us could get together. There is no reason we cannot reach a resolution over this. If we were to -”

Lisbet almost tipped the coffee all over her lap.

“- Have sex. Just once. We can move past this.”

“You want me to be your whore to get your hard-on for another man out of your system?”

“You are not my whore, Lisbet. I would never -”

“You would let another man touch me!”

As expected, the very thought made Ivar grit his teeth together and clench his eyes shut. But he forced himself to breathe steady, apparently convinced that this was a reasonable option. That if he could experience this with Lisbet, with his love, that he’d get over whatever feelings from the past decided to brew at Heahmund’s current presence.

“Please,” Ivar said quietly. “I do not want to feel this - I… I cannot help it. Lisbet -” she peered at him suspiciously “- Help me get past this.”

There were two reasons why Lisbet conceded. One was that Ivar had never asked for help in such a manner; a way that made her heart swell even though she had never been angrier at him. The other was because this would be his only chance. If this didn’t end whatever feelings he had for Heahmund, she would find a way to eradicate him from the earth herself.


	2. Chapter 2

Upon Lisbet’s insistence, they met Heahmund at an upscale hotel. She wouldn’t dare invite him into their bed. The nightly cost was at such a price, it was like the extra two zeros on the receipt bought the staff’s exercise of discretion. 

She and Ivar arrived first - and Lisbet tore into a bottle of gin straight away. Since Ivar, she never once imagined being with another man. It shook her to think of what it might feel like, being touched by another’s hands. Touching a body that wasn’t Ivar’s. She would need the strong drink to calm her nerves. 

Ivar was eerily quiet. Any time they locked eyes, his cheeks would flush before shying away. They hadn’t even discussed that he’d, in fact, been with a man before. But any potential surprise it may have brought was blown off by the shock of him wanting anyone else but her. 

Lisbet was a bit buzzed by the time Heahmund arrived. It was better that way - soberly, he was attractive, but with the alcohol in her system, he appeared even more so. It was easier to be agreeable. She was glad she’d chosen to wear a black silk dress, feeling sexy as she perched on the plush king-sized bed with a cocktail glass in her hand. Heahmund was dressed just as fine - slim black trousers with shiny shoes, and a deep green blouse that hugged his muscular torso in all the right ways as he removed his Pea coat with a sultry smile. 

“Good evening, Lisbet,” he greeted. Looked at Ivar, who’d been pushed aside in a lounge chair. “Ivar.”

He hung up his jacket and stepped even further into the room, offering it an approving nod before approaching Lisbet. “I do understand this must be somewhat uncomfortable for you, but I am pleased we have found a way to find common ground.”

Lisbet drained her glass and stood from the bed. She set the glass on the nightstand and kicked off her heels, feeling the slightest bit lightheaded as she moved nearer to Heahmund. Their height difference made him suddenly intimidating. He was older, though she couldn’t wager by how much. But she steeled herself; she wouldn’t appear feeble to him.

“I should like to see what all of the fuss is about,” she quipped. And as he smirked, she found herself doing the same.

Heahmund made the first move and she was thankful for it. There was no sense in beating around the bush where they were concerned. He took a step closer and softly wrapped his hand around her neck.

With a glance toward Ivar, he opened his mouth to speak when Lisbet interrupted.

“I want him to watch first.”

Ivar started at once. “Lisbet, that is not what we agreed upon.”

She rolled her eyes and sent him a glare. “You have been with each other already. It’s only fair.”

A half-truth. Part of her just felt better being spiteful. If she had to go through with this, then Ivar should suffer, too. She knew he was anxious about seeing another man touch her, but he’d clearly made himself feel better by knowing he was participating. No… No, he would only watch just now. He wouldn’t be able to get off until a piece of his heart shattered just as hers had.

Heahmund added pressure to her neck with his hand. “If it would please the lady.” 

This man was a stranger to her. She still had no idea how his line of work coincided with the Mob, but his moral compass was clearly as ambiguous as her own. It was oddly comforting.

“It would.”

She didn’t dare look back at Ivar. Simply pressed herself closer to Heahmund’s solid form and reached for his belt.

“Not so fast,” he said softly, eyes boring down on her as if she was the only one in the room. He ran his hands over her arms, a soothing gesture. “You are tense. Let me help you relax.”

His hands wandered over her for a moment. Learning her in his own way while tracing her shoulders, the curves of her waist and hips. All the while keeping his eyes trained on hers. Lisbet saw a darkness behind them, something gloomy through the charming Christian front he posed at dinner parties. A type of danger that she couldn’t help but find alluring, much akin to the way Ivar’s tempted her. 

He turned her around and unzipped the back of her dress, fingers attentive to her skin as he assisted the garment to the ground. The sound of his approving groan was drowned out by Ivar’s hiss. 

She’d gone as far as to wear his favorite pair of garters for the occasion. Rows of straps cinched tightly around her thighs, with shiny gold snaps. The garter belt was snugly fit above her lace panties. She wasn’t even wearing stockings. It was purely decoration. 

Heahmund turned her to face him again, lips parted and eyes heavy-lidded as he stared at her lustily. 

“She is very beautiful, Ivar.”

Rub it in, she thought. 

He stooped over and abruptly scooped her up by the backs of her thighs; easily hoisting her from the ground. By instinct, she latched onto his shoulders, for a brief second appreciating their broadness. 

There were few steps to the bed. Her heart fluttered as he climbed on. She briefly looked toward Ivar – usually a safety net, but now he seemed borderline unstable. An intense glare on his face with fists clenched so tightly around the arms of the chair, his knuckles were visibly white. And just as their eyes met, she was forced to divert her attention as Heahmund tipped her back onto the mattress. He then blanketed her with his body, stretching to lay across the foot of the bed with Ivar sat beyond it. They were perfectly in his view.

With a thudding heart, Lisbet brought herself to look at Heahmund’s face, so close to hers now. She wiggled beneath him, getting used to the feel of a different body, the feel of prodding knees that kept her thighs spread apart. It was a good thing he was so handsome; that he was so fit and blazing with heat that she could muffle the nagging voice in the back of her head that said this was wrong. With that last shred of morality, she all but grabbed him by the throat, guiding his mouth down to cover hers. 

There was a slowness to the way he kissed, perhaps meaning to be careful with her, but she had no patience for it. Instead, her lips were bruising on his, taking him aback in a way that made him compensate. 

Heamund solidly pressed himself against her, hips moving with hers, hands eagerly groping different parts of her body. He squeezed her breasts and pinched her waist. Pulled her legs tightly around him to start rocking against her crotch.

She actually found herself becoming a little turned on, unsure if it was to do with the new sensations Heahmund provided – tongue probing into her mouth, beard scraping her cheeks – or the spite and alcohol that’d been driving her while Ivar was forced to watch. He kissed her so deeply, she hardly noticed her bra disappearing, even though she’d swear she was busy feeling him, too. The muscular body, the tight abs, and toned ass. 

She was dizzy when he pulled away, released a breathy moan as he immediately shifted down her body. Dragged his mouth over her breasts. Her fingers raked through his hair, holding him in place while he suckled her nipple. She was in a complete trance, losing herself to the way she was able to enjoy this when he unhooked the snaps of her garter belt. 

Again, she swallowed the doubt. Even as he pulled her panties down and tossed them aside. 

This time around, she purposefully stared at Ivar as Heahmund pulled her legs over his shoulders. She wanted to see him react to someone else getting a taste of her. 

Ivar didn’t even blink. He was hunched over in his seat seeming like he was seconds from either pouncing onto the bed or falling physically ill. His eyes flew to hers as she let out the first moan, Heahmund having sealed his mouth over her cunt. He laved with his tongue, speedy and precise, with such an unfamiliar method that Lisbet’s body reacted more and more steadily. Heat pooled in her groin while her thighs tingled and her toes curled.

Heahmund slid his hands up her stomach before latching onto her breasts. His thumb rolled her nipples while he groaned into her cunt, shaking his head with an animalistic growl. 

“Fuck,” she couldn’t keep from exclaiming; both hands tugging his soft hair while rolling her pelvis up against his face. Ivar’s jaw was unhinged as he sat frozen to his seat. Watching his girl be brought to orgasm. He stayed focused on her even as she wailed, hips bucking and legs tightening over Heahmund as she came. 

“Such a pretty little dove,” Heahmund remarked, still mouthing over her thighs. Lisbet could hear the strangled noise come from Ivar’s lungs as Heahmund cherished his favorite parts of her. He moved back up her body to settle above her, husking in her face, eyes dark with lust. “So pretty when you come.”

Lisbet wanted on with it now, felt enough hunger in her bones and anger in her heart, she near snarled as she kissed him again, tasting herself on his lips.

It took joint effort in ridding Heahmund of his clothes, and they tangled together again for Lisbet to roll on top of him. For a second she just sat there, observing his body. It was so different from Ivar’s – chest smaller, though just as solid, layered with dark chest hair. His waist was trimmer, too, with the stripe of hair travelling down to his crotch. All of it was a constant reminder of what was occurring no matter how hard she tried to fight it.

But the sight of his endowment got her centered again. Heahmund grabbed onto her hips while she balanced on her knees, and she whined the whole way down as she took his cock. It was an odd sensation. Not as thick as she was used to, but certainly long, and he slid so deeply inside her, filling her completely. 

Her mind became a jarbled mess, unable to conceive what was happening. She grinded herself down onto Heahmund harder and harder, willing away her inhibitions with every pivot her body. He abruptly sat up and locked his long arms around her, held her tight as he met each of her movements with a vigor that had their voices echoing together. 

She couldn’t help it… Just one more time she had to – turned her head, cheek pressed to Heahmund’s shoulder and looked at Ivar. 

He was half out of his seat now. His palm gripped around his crotch but his face looked just as confused as her body felt. Unsure if he really was enjoying this or not. Once their eyes locked, she could see the flicker in them as he turned angry. His jaw clenched and his nostrils flared, and she managed a wry grin before resuming her attention to Heahmund; moaned into the crook of his neck.

“Harder,” she grunted. If he was going to fuck her, he was going to do it thoroughly. 

Heahmund adjusted his pace straight away; slammed into her from below while his nails raked up her chest and knotted into her hair. He forced her head back, bit into her breast when her back arched and watched her closely.

“What does this feel like?” he husked at her, rhythm so abrupt and hard now that she squealed with every movement. “Being fucked by another man?”

“Watch it, Heahmund,” Ivar snapped, finally intervening. “She is still mine.”

While the sentiment didn’t affect her, Lisbet watched a glint shine in Heahmund’s eye, a competitive nerve apparently struck. She gasped as Heahmund turned them over, a different angle this time, pointed head first at Ivar. His hips slammed into hers with abandon, her cries only growing louder. He slid his arms under her thighs, shoved his fists along the bed, practically folding her in half underneath him. The depths he hit now almost sent her into another orgasm; she could hardly make a sound. Merely gasped for air while her tits bounced.

Suddenly, there was a hand cupping the back of her neck. She’d been so blitzed she hadn’t even noticed Ivar climbing from the chair to crawl to the bed. He bent his wrist, making her look at him and she whimpered at the sight of his flushed face. 

It was too much stimulation at once – the emotion of Ivar touching her, watching her as Heahmund hardly slowed his pace. 

Ivar leaned in close enough that their lips touched, only to murmur – “My good girl.”

She sobbed as he kissed her. Eagerly sucked his tongue into her mouth. Ivar’s fingers clenched around her neck in a painful grip as he possessively growled. Bit harshly on her bottom lip before pulling away. 

“Do not come yet,” Ivar said, peering up at Heahmund, who froze above her instantly. Still nestled deep inside. 

They both watched Ivar haul himself up onto the bed and take off his shirt. When it was folded and dropped to the floor, he grabbed Heahmund by his hair, tugged him to his face as if impatient. Ivar smashed his lips onto his in a heated kiss, and their mouths were quick to open against each other’s. 

Lisbet gulped, never having seen Ivar kiss another person before. There were flashes of tongue and teeth, and she felt her blood boil. Never before had she so certainly wanted to kill someone. Wanted someone dead? That was different. But in this moment, she wanted to wring Heahmund’s neck herself as she watched him wrap an arm around Ivar’s back, holding him more solidly against his chest. 

Ivar’s own hand stayed tangled in his hair, used the hold to tear him away once he’d had enough. 

The next short minutes were a hazy blur. It was like Lisbet was having an out of body experience as Ivar climbed on top of Heahmund, lathered his fingers with his spit. At some point, she could spot a condom, but all she could really focus on was Ivar. Ivar staring down at Heahmund with eyes she didn’t recognize. One hand heavily petting his back while the other busied with something that made Heahmund’s hips start up again – a sharp enough jolt that had Lisbet wince in unsuspecting pain. 

She could tell without clarification when Ivar started to penetrate him with his cock. Through gritted teeth, Heahmund’s voice was guttural, whiny as he teetered forward and buried his face on her chest. There was a sharp wheeze when Ivar thrusted with a loud grunt. 

Perhaps it was better this way; Ivar on top. With every jut of his hips, Heahmund pressed deeper inside her, like they were all moving together as one. But it was bittersweet, having to watch Ivar concentrate on fucking someone else. His crazed stare stayed glued to the back of Heahmund’s head, teeth bared in a snarl as he stifled his own voice. Lisbet knew how much he reveled in the tightness of anal sex. She wondered if it was just as good with him; if he’d come just as fast as he would with her.

And Ivar didn’t take him as gently as he would with her, either. With her, he moved slow and gentle. Sweet-talked her through it with words of praise. Inside Heahmund, Ivar cursed ruefully, hands gripped over his shoulders to aggressively tug him back to meet his hips. Lisbet could barely stand to watch, but couldn’t take her eyes off of him all the same, never having seen him in such a light.

Heahmund seemed to enjoy it all the same. His moans became loud and more shrill – maybe this was how he recalled their lovemaking from before. He pulled on Lisbet’s thighs, securing her to his body as the two men’s rutting hips moved sharply together. Much to her displeasure, he buried his face in the crook of her neck, whining and clutching onto her as if she was the one granting him solace. 

“Do not come inside of her,” Ivar suddenly rasped. 

The gesture was slightly heartwarming – still owning her in his way. The emptiness Heahmund left behind when he pulled out of her was twice as relieving than she guessed it might be. She trembled at his absence, knowing each second from now on meant moving further away from this moment, this… Ledger on her life. 

He fisted his cock, jerking rapidly around it. Mouth falling wide open and eyes squeezed shut. Ivar must’ve been fond of his hair – latched onto his locks once more and craned his neck to hiss words of filth in his ear, his own hand joining Heahmund’s around his cock until hot cum jetted in quick spurts, only to land on Lisbet’s stomach.

Wordlessly, the two men rearranged, giving Lisbet a break and space as Ivar got on his back and Heahmund hovered above him. She could hear them kissing again even though she gazed at the ceiling, catching her breath. 

The kissing was the worst part, she decided. She could endure the abuse on her own body, but Ivar doting on someone with his perfect mouth, quite possibly the first thing on his body she ever lusted for, twisted a knife in her ribcage. But of course, this had been what this night was about. Their feelings for each other. Of course Ivar would grant such a gift. 

Ivar’s eventual moan brought her back to the present and she finally forced herself to look at the pair. See Heahmund’s backside as he lounged comfortably along Ivar’s legs. Ivar’s condomless cock was balls-deep between Heahmund’s lips, who fervently sucked him up while he massaged his hands over his hips and stomach. 

“Lisbet,” Ivar croaked, reaching his hand out for her. 

There was no guessing how much venom was in her glare as she looked at him. He beckoned her to him, lips parted, eyes desperate and yearning, framed by tresses that slipped from his hair tie. She wanted to leave him like that, let him get off by his precious Heahmund alone. Climb off the bed, put her clothes back on and walk right out of the door. 

Instead, she gave as he heaved out another moan, other hand joining the first in willing her to him. He was halfway through murmuring please when she crawled over to him, allowing him to pull her in his embrace. 

There were weak attempts at kissing her, interrupted each time by hoarse groans tumbling from his lips. Lisbet watched his eyelashes flutter, his taut chest heave as he panted.

“Get on my face,” he murmured. 

Lisbet obliged. It seemed that he felt better by her presence; rationalized the horror of this act by knowing they committed it together. 

She straddled his face and Ivar whined in euphoria, swiping his tongue through her lips in one broad lick. Lisbet hated herself for how quickly he managed to get her riling again; insides coiling as he slid his tongue inside her before laving her slit and sucking her clit into his mouth. Her hips gyrated by the sheer force of his ministrations.

Ivar’s hands slid up to her ribcage, rubbing her skin, not stopping while Heahmund blew him just behind her. In a matter of short minutes, she could identify the tremors of his body, the rhythm of his labored breathing. He was about to orgasm and she was right behind him, cries louder than his muffled ones as she came in his mouth, just as he did the same to Heahmund. 

Lisbet went numb as she toppled over; sound became dull and distant. Somewhere next to her, Ivar was trying to touch her, coaxing her body to lay beside his, and she felt drunk as she stumbled off the bed.

“M’gonna shower,” she mumbled. Already feeling indigestion from the bile that threatened to eject. 

The numbness faded under the scalding water, rapidly replaced by a seething rage. Her hands shook, there was a bout of dry heaving, and once she stepped out of the shower, her eyes were red and brimming with tears. But she found resolve in her rage; she wouldn’t cry. Not yet, anyway.

After pulling on a robe, Lisbet waltzed out of the bathroom, hardly casting Ivar and Heahmund a second glance. They were sitting up on the bed, still undressed, having hushed conversation about who gave a fuck what. 

She went for Ivar’s blazer, hanging next to Heahmund’s; she scoffed at it as she reached for Ivar’s hidden inner breast pocket. Her fingers curled around his switchblade, and before Ivar could become suspicious, she rushed to approach Heahmund from the back, pressed the trigger to release the sharp blade, and stuck the tip to his carotid artery. 

Heahmund’s back went rigid whereas Ivar hardly reacted.

Lisbet leaned in to speak directly into Heahmund’s ear.

“Once you’ve left this room, if I ever see you lay one wandering eye on him again, it will be the last time you have eyes.”

“Lisbet -” Heahmund was cut off by a wince as she added more force to the knife. Enough so that beads of blood pooled around the point of connection and trickled down his throat. 

“Do I make myself clear?” she snapped, finding her hand eerily steady on the hilt. “I may not be a thug like you two, but I do know how to remove those baby blues, and I know how to keep you alive – and feeling – while I do it.”

Heahmund audibly gulped and raised defensive hands. “I see why they call you his Queen.”

Lisbet scratched the knife across his skin as she retreated, leaving behind a fresh, red slice. “Get – out.”

While he dressed, she stood at the window, gazing outside with the bottle of gin in her hand. There was no sense of bothering with a glass. 

She didn’t address Ivar until Heahmund left. With tear-stained cheeks, she hobbled to him on wobbly legs, worsened by the drink. Ivar watched her hopefully, waiting for her to speak. 

“I hope that was worth it,” she bit out. 

“Lisbet, if you let me, I will -”

Smack!

The sound of Lisbet’s palm connecting with his face echoed the room, and Ivar sat there, no more stunned than she. Never before had she hit him. His eyes stayed trained to the floor as red bloomed on his cheek, bottom lip trembling as he pouted and his eyes filled with tears. 

And she couldn’t even help but feel guilty for it. Dropped the bottle to the ground to grab Ivar and hug him to her body. He wrapped his arms around her waist so tightly, she could scarcely breathe, and they stayed like that for a long time. Shaking, and silently praying they could move on from this.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the lack of fine tuned editing!!


End file.
